


animals do not repent.

by calcelmo



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcelmo/pseuds/calcelmo
Summary: As unhelpful as it may feel in the moment, things can usually be worse. This time, though, Ethan felt confident in saying that this was as worse as it got.
Relationships: Ethan Winters/Marguerite Baker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	animals do not repent.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Suffocation by Crystal Castles. This is my fourth fic written using a CC song for the title, and I know that's... unoriginal, I do listen to other bands. But they always seem to fit better than anything else. I love them.
> 
> Anyway, this one was a draft in my phone from earlier this year. I could have written WAY more and got really deep into this relationship but I feel like I'd just be rightly ridiculed for writing mommy issues fic about Bug Crotch Baker. Still, I love writing for RE7 and especially Ethan, and hopefully I'll continue to do so, and get more inspiration once RE8 hits.
> 
> I hope you enjoy; please comment <3

As unhelpful as it may feel in the moment, things can usually be worse. This time, though, Ethan felt confident in saying that this was as worse as it got. 

Backed and bound into a corner, met with the Baker’s slavering, scheming heir reaching out with rotten nails, murmuring sick promises of solace, the anxiety hit a level which darkened his vision and forced his heart into palpitations. He’d gotten this far, but there really was no way out. Drugs slowed everything to one awful, anxious standstill. He bared his teeth, snarling like a dog, but he knew he was showing the whites of his eyes. 

_"Lucas!"_ Marguerite screamed. In his shock and mute terror, Ethan had never been so glad to hear her voice.

Lucas twisted round with a shadow of fear on his face, but he barely had time to do so. Blood spattered hot and wet over Ethan's face and shirt. Lucas made a gurgling sound, as Marguerite wrenched the axe she had slammed into his face out of his skull.

Half of his face was completely unrecognisable, chunks of flesh sliding wetly down his jaw along with rivulets of clotting blood. Dark red seeped into the fabric of his jacket, and his body slumped to the floor, twitching intermittently until it went still. As to how long, Ethan was skeptical.

Marguerite was speaking to him, that abrasive accent of hers registering only as static noise in his brain.

He realised he was hyperventilating and quietly focused on evening out his breaths. _Jesus._ For some reason, the thought of Lucas' hands on his skin made him balk harder than any threat of violence.

Marguerite slapped him, dropping down to his eye level and squinting at him with feverish eyes.

"I asked if you were all right, boy," she snapped.

He blinked back at her, dazed from whatever Lucas had drugged him with, and having a hard time believing she was really here to help.

"I'm okay," he nodded. He swallowed, hard, and tried to meet her gaze. "I'm okay," he repeated.

She looked relieved. "Well, that's good." Her eyes flitted down to Lucas' corpse, narrowing in contempt. "I won’t abide that in my house. I didn't raise my son to behave like that.” She shook her head, sniffing. The action was bizarrely and comically human. She smiled, and it drew her lips into cracking and blistering like rubber. “Why can't he be more like you, hm?"

Ethan smiled weakly, acutely aware that he had to find a way out of these bindings and get the fuck out of there.

"You sure you're feelin' okay?" Marguerite asked.

She bent close and put a clammy, cold hand on his forehead. She smelled strongly of honey, but cloying and putrid. When she pulled away, he said, "Could you please get me out of these bindings?"

She glanced down at them, thoughtful. Then a grin spread across her face and she burst into cackling laughter. "You're a clever one," she smiled. "I don't think so."

He met her gaze head on, and said nothing.

"If it's Lucas you're worried about, I'll get rid 'o him," the Baker matriarch reassured him. With a frightening display of inhuman strength, she dragged her son out of the room and unceremoniously let his body thud its way down the staircase.

"There," she said, satisfied, putting her hands on her hips. "Now how about I get you somethin' to eat? And how about some tea, warm y’up?"

"Sure," Ethan said, blankly.

She beamed. "There's a good boy. You're my favourite, did you know that? You're a good son. I love you very much."

Ethan laughed, more reflexive than anything. On her blank look, he cleared his throat, and said, "Yeah. Love you too."

The smile didn't leave her face, even as she closed the door behind her.

Working with sluggish limbs under the influence of the drug, Ethan struggled to loosen his bindings. Luckily, Lucas hadn't anticipated he'd be able to work at them, so the ropes weren't tied very tight.

Heart pounding, Ethan threw one last glance at Lucas' lifeless body before he pushed the window up and climbed outside into the suffocating summer night.

As he carefully traversed the roof, trying not to dislodge any tiles, he could hear Lucas and Marguerite screaming at each other. It was raw; animal and desperate.


End file.
